Intimate Friendship
by Aerilon452
Summary: Abbie and Ichabod return to Corbin's cabin after the Sin Eater cleanses Ichabod of his sin. ONE SHOT. COMPLETE


Summary:

Disclaimer: I own nothing of SLEEPY HOLLOW

Rating: T+

Pairing: Abbie and Ichabod

**FACE TO FACE:**

Abbie walked with Crane inside Corbin's cabin that he now called his home. Tonight she had nearly lost him and that shook her to the very core of her being. She had just found him, found a way of fitting together, and that had nearly been taken from her. Abbie couldn't face that again. He had used her name for the first time, telling her how determined he was, but she wasn't going to lose him. She wasn't going to leave him, not until she was sure that he was still within reach. Tonight, there was no way she was going to be able to go home, to sleep, or to be alone. Abbie closed the door and locked it. When she turned she found Crane staring at her. "What?"

"What has you set on edge?" Ichabod asked knowing that he was still very unsettled with events that had transpired between him, Abbie, and his Mason brothers. Tonight it was her voice, not the voice of Katrina that kept him fighting for every second of life until the Sin Eater arrived. How had this young woman become so entwined in his life? How had she come to mean so much? Ichabod was yet to divine an answer. He, now more than ever, believed that he was meant to find her, meant to be by her side for whatever was to come their way.

"I don't know…." Abbie lied. She knew exactly what was bothering her. Tonight she had sat across from him, taken his hand, as he took a potion to end his life. In that single moment she was losing him, losing another person that had given her life some sort of meaning, of connection. "No actually, I do know." Now her words had the edge of anger. "You were going to willingly kill yourself tonight!" Abbie shouted. "You had no way of knowing that the Horseman would have died with you even though you two were bound together." Abbie took a deep breath, this time keeping her voice at a more even tempered tone. "You can't leave me." She repeated. Sometimes it scared her at how attached she had become to him in such a short amount of time.

Like she had done to him, Ichabod closed the distance between them, and took her in his arms. He held her tight, resting his chin atop her head. No words would fall from his lips as he had none suitable for this situation. Her hands slipped under his jacket where her fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt. Like earlier she rested her cheek against his chest saying nothing. For a few moments of peace they held each other beating back the coldness of the coming storm, of the war with Moloch and his minions. The decision to leave her had not been an easy one, and one he had regretted instantly.

Abbie knew she should take a few steps back, to take her arms from Ichabod. But she couldn't. She couldn't take that step even though she knew him to be a married man. This hug, to him, was a gesture of friendship, of comfort. Only, to her it was becoming something more. Every day, every dilemma they overcame, cemented their bond making them closer and closer. The more she was around him, the more she knew would come to rely on his presence. How had she become so attached to him in such a short amount of time? It was a mystery to her. Abbie didn't want this feeling to end, even though she had a feeling that when all was said and done, neither of them would survive this war with Moloch. In the end she knew it would be worth it because she had the chance to know Ichabod, to be with him. The thought of them dying didn't scare her as much as she thought it would because when the time came, she knew that she would face it with him. Always with him at her side.

Ichabod had to relinquish his hold upon the Lieutenant. She was not Katrina, and yet she was much more. Abbie was tangible, not a memory in a dream or a ghost trapped between worlds. Her warmth, her smile, helped him to see his current state as tolerable, not a curse as he had seen it upon first waking alone in the cave. She alone made this new era livable for him. Gathering strength, Ichabod pulled back and smiled at her feeling calm, centered, for the first time in weeks. For a second, Abbie didn't look at him, and as he angled his head, he knew why. She had tears streaming down her face. He cupped her face using his thumbs to wipe away the tear tracks. "Oh, Abbie…" Ichabod sighed her name. The tears on her cheek, he couldn't tell if they were of joy or of sorrow. Abbie was an open book to him and in this moment he dared not speculate as to her current emotional state as he was unclear on his own emotions.

Abbie wanted to hide her face, hide the tears she had silently shed as Ichabod had held her close. No one had ever just held her to hold her. This kind of contact was new for her and she hadn't expected to want it from a man who should have been dead for 250 years. Knowing that he wasn't going to let her go until she looked at him, Abbie looked up through the tears she still had yet to shed. His image was blurry but she could see that he was smiling. Habit had her tongue nearly forming his last name, but seeing as he had called her by her first name twice in one day, she felt she had leave to use his. "Ichabod…" That gained her a smile. One she readily returned. The stress of the day was falling from her just being in Corbin's cabin with Ichabod Crane. But even as they were safe for another night, the exhaustion was creeping in. She wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to remain on her feet, or if she could drive home.

Ichabod could see the claws of exhaustion clinging to Abbie. Gently she swayed on her feet forcing him to drop his hands from her face to her shoulder so he could steady her. He knew she lived some distance from here and that she would have to operate the motorized carriage to take her home. Ichabod was not comfortable with her doing this. "You should remain here until morning." The invitation was harmless enough. He was being a gentleman, offering her shelter, a safe haven to sleep in. "I can see that you're tired." Abbie opened her mouth to ague, but Ichabod stilled her words by continuing on. "I would hate for you to get into an accident on your way home when it could be prevented by you staying here." When he was sure she would remain on her feet, he stepped back from her and motioned that she could take the bed at the back of the cabin. "Please, put my mind to rest." He tried to convey to her that he was worried about her current state.

Again, Abbie tried to ague, but her body was winning. She was exhausted to the point she could fall to the floor and sleep where she was. Crane motioned her to take the bedroom, but this cabin was his now. She wouldn't feel right back there. "No," She declined. "You're the one who nearly died today. I'll take the couch and you can have the bed." She covered up her sudden rush of unease. Like she had done, he opened his mouth to offer up a counter argument, but Abbie would have none of it. To stop the debate, she took his hand and pulled him along the hall to the back bedroom where she maneuvered him to the bed and pushed him down until he was sitting on the mattress. "You need the bed more than I do." When she turned to leave, she was unprepared for Ichabod to grab her hand keeping her from leaving. What was she going to do? Abbie had no answer. "Crane…" She drew out his name without much else to say.

Ichabod didn't know what he was doing; he was just letting his body take over. He needed the warmth of another human being beside him and he wanted it to be Abbie. "I only wish to hold you a while longer." He mumbled rising from the edge of the bed to stand behind her. With great tenderness, Ichabod brought his hands up to her shoulders, gripped the lapels of her leather jacket, and pulled it down her arms. Abbie didn't move an inch. She stayed where she was, allowing him to divest of her jacket. He tossed the garment away, hearing it land on the floor away from them. Ichabod stepped around Abbie so he could once again gaze upon her face, to see her eyes.

Abbie had a split second to stop what was happening. Crane was a married man, his wife had sacrificed so much to save his life, wound up in purgatory, and here he was taking off her jacket. The gesture felt wrong. It didn't feel like he was trying to start something to try and take his mind off of all that had happened. It was more than that. Abbie looked in his eyes, trying to find something familiar, but she saw nothing. She could only see his pain, his sorrow. Knowing he needed it, Abbie slipped her arms over his shoulders, and went up on her tip toes trying to hug him. Ichabod responded by putting his arms around her waist and picking her up off of her feet.

Ichabod needed the closeness of a friend, the intimacy he had with Abbie that didn't belie romantic intentions. She was an anchor for him, a port in a raging storm belonging to a world he couldn't understand. Abbie alone made it bearable for him. He needed to feel stable. Ichabod, with Abbie still in his arms, stepped back until he could set her on the edge of the bed like he had been before. When he knelt before her, she looked at him as if she were about to give voice to a thought. Ichabod waited. Abbie said nothing. She continued to stare at him. This allowed him to focus on the task at hand. He took her left foot and pulled off the boot, then repeated the action with her right foot. Setting her removed footwear aside, Ichabod remained before her waiting for Abbie.

Abbie still wasn't sure what was going to happen, but for now she didn't need to know. Staying where she was on the bed, she leaned forward and slipped her hands under his Colonial jacket. Mirroring what he had done to her, Abbie pushed the warn fabric from his arms. It pooled around him with Ichabod making no move to push it aside. "What now?" She asked gently. When no answer came, she moved from the edge of the bed, and went to the dresser in the bedroom. _Corbin's clothes._ The thought made her heart break all over again, but it did not deter her from searching through the cedar smelling clothes. In the middle she found a pair of flannel pants. Pulling them free she turned back to Ichabod and handed them to him. "Here, change into those." She left no room for arguing. Abbie turned her back, removed the matching flannel shirt and pulled out a pair of olive drab ratty shorts to sleep in. This time she stepped from the room to leave him to his privacy.

Ichabod watched Abbie leave the room with her borrowed garments in hand. Once she was out of the room, he set about untying the laces of his shirt; the shirt he had mended on three occasions already. He looked at the trousers she had handed them and automatically curled his lip at them. They were at least not as constricting as the ones Abbie wore on a daily basis. Ichabod shed his shirt, toed off his boots, shucked his pants, and removed his undergarment before reaching for the pants. The flannel as soft and when he pulled them up to his hip, they instantly warmed him. He had just finished tying the strings when Abbie walked back in.

Abbie was having second thoughts. She should turn tail and escape to the cough where she could curl up under the blankets and watch the fire crackle lulling her to sleep. Then, she stepped back into the bedroom, seeing his sad eyes, and she had no intention of leaving him alone. At least the bed was big enough that they wouldn't be pressed together from head to toe. Where she thought things would be awkward, there was this easiness instead. Slowly she reached out taking the edge of the blanket so she could pull the covers back and slip under them.

Ichabod waited for Abbie to settle, to get comfortable before he stretched out on top of the covers. He settled on his side tucking his right hand under his face and his left hand resting in the space between them. Abbie mirrored him, rolling to her side to face him, her right hand resting over his. In this moment, in this time, he was able to breathe easier. He could pretend that he belonged to this era. "If you would permit me…" Slowly he scooted closer to her, his left hand slipping over her right side unto his palm rested in the middle of her back. A gentle smile curved his lips.

Abbie closed the distance between them, draping her arm over his wait, her hand settled in the middle of his back. The connection between them was nothing sexual, but it was intimate, and it was comfortable. This was the first time they had actively sought the physical comfort of each other. Abbie tucked her head under Ichabod's chin, releasing a slow breath to help ease her into sleep. With her eyes closed, waiting for oblivion to claim her, Abbie tried not to see Ichabod as he lifted the concoction to his lips, his intent was to drink. In that moment her heart stopped, she suddenly saw the truth of his convictions. He was ready to die, but she wasn't going to let him. Trying in vain, Abbie tried to focus on anything else. The weight of Ichabod's hand, the feel of his chest rising and falling, all it worked to ease the rest of the tension from her. This started out as being something he needed, now it was something that she needed as well. Abbie listened to the sound of Ichabod's heart as she fell further and further into sleep.

Ichabod waited until he was sure that Abbie was sound asleep before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head and then to her forehead before he slipped from the bed. He padded on bare feet out to the living room. Lying next to her, he couldn't still his mind. It raced and replayed every single moment from when he woke in the cellar to being granted absolution by Arthur. Ichabod needed to do something, some mindless task to help quiet his mind. The night was turning chill, some warmth of a fire would be needed before too long. This he could do. This he knew. Building the wood, using the kindling, and then finally Ichabod struck a match to start the gentle blaze. Before going back to Abbie, Ichabod was going to sit in front of the fireplace to reflect on the events of the day. At first he had felt betrayal over his brother's wanting to kill him; them and now. Then he fought to resign himself to the fact that he had to die only to have to face Abbie as he drank the solution to end his life. When he thought he was truly done for, life surprised him again in the form of the Sin Eater. Henry Parish had helped to separate him from the Horseman of Death. That earned the man Ichabod eternal gratitude. It also gave him more time with Abbie.

Abbie felt as if she had been asleep for minutes. When she woke, she was alone, and the clock next to the bed glowed the time. It was midnight. They had returned to the cabin around ten pm. Sitting up she heard the crackling of a fire that drew her from the bed. Out in the living room she found Ichabod on the couch, his eyes intent upon the flames. Abbie grabbed the blanket from the back of the chair in front of her, she wrapped it around her body and then sat on the couch. "Can't turn it off?" She whispered. At first Ichabod didn't turn to her, he was still staring at the flame, but then is impossibly blue eyes met hers and she knew. He was thinking about the Sin Eater, about his sin. Ichabod regretted not saving Arthur Bernard sooner. He felt deep guilt over watching an innocent man die; a man of conscience. She walked over to the couch and sat next to him. "There was nothing you could have done for him." Abbie rested her head on his shoulder. Being wrapped up in the blanket, being next to him, it was enough for her to fall back to sleep quickly.

"I realize that…" Ichabod drew out his words in a single breath, then he gave voice to his guilt much as he had when confronted with the ghost of Arthur Bernard. "I should have done more. I should have realized sooner." Ichabod rested his cheek atop Abbie's head while keeping his eyes on the flames. They danced and crackled, told a secret story to those who dared to decipher the words hidden in the orange glow. He was not of a mind to imagine the tale unfolding in the flames, not when he was tired, and not when Abbie was sitting right next to him. "Though it would be posited that all I have done was done to lead me to this moment in time, to your side, and to the defense of all mankind in this coming war with evil." When Ichabod received no reply, he angled his head to see Abbie had slipped back into sleep. It was time he followed suit. The day's events had taxed his physical and mental stamina. Sleep was needed, deserved, and well within grasp. Before he could let exhaustion claim him, Ichabod offered final heartfelt words to Abbie, "I will never stop being amazed at how I found my way to you." Once again Ichabod kissed the top of her head and then whispered, "Eternal gratitude for saving my life as well as my soul." Sitting on the couch, in front of the fire, Ichabod cuddled with Abbie on the couch seeking the comfort from her touch, from the strength of their relationship whatever form it was to be in. This time he was able to allow his mind to settle, to quiet, and he slipped into sleep next to Lieutenant Abigail Mills, the second witness, the woman who saved his soul.

**THE END**


End file.
